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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111691">You Held Me Then</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpreadYourWings/pseuds/SpreadYourWings'>SpreadYourWings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hold Me 'verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Abusive John Winchester, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awesome Castiel (Supernatural), Biological Dom/sub, Biological Necessary Submission, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Child Abuse, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester Just Wants To Be Loved, Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom John Winchester, Dom Sam Winchester, Dom/Sub Identification Marks, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, First Meetings, Gentle Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Pre-Relationship, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Scared Dean Winchester, Self-Worth Issues, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Subdrop, Subspace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:00:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpreadYourWings/pseuds/SpreadYourWings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Prequal to "Hold Me Tight" Can be read first, after reading that, or just on it's own.</p><p>---</p><p>Dean always hid what he was, his dad's words and warnings staying with him even while the man himself avoiding him as much as possible, only coming to find him when he needed a warm body to push around and yell at. Dean knew it wasn't good, didn't need his brother to tell him that, but it was the only way he knew to keep himself balanced without the danger of the unknown, so he stayed. And he did as John said. And he never whispered a word about the pathetic truth hidden under his bracelets.</p><p>But then a blue eyed Dom finds him at a bar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hold Me 'verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>300</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here we go! A prequal just like I promised!!<br/>This ended up longer than I expected, but I am really pleased with it and I hope you'll all like it too!! I don't know how often I'll be updating, but I'll try to keep it regular, and comments always get me speeding up my editing and posting. (wink wink)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean was three and a half when he first asked about the vertical line on his dad's wrist. His mom's wrist was clear, just like his own, and he was confused about what it all meant. He was told that he would understand more when he was older, that if he was lucky he would get a black mark just like his dad's, but the basic facts was that it meant that his dad liked people doing what he said, and that his mom didn't mind so much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It made sense to him. Whenever he broke a rule it was always his dad who told him off, and it was his dad who told him to pick up his toys. To his little child mind that was all it meant, and it made perfect sense. He was wrong of course, it was nothing to do with toys being picked up, or broken rules, not in the way Dean was thinking anyway. But back then, it had seemed like it meant sense, and he had told his parents as much, a wide toothy grin on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had laughed then, told him that he was a clever boy and of course he understood, and then didn't mention it again, probably expecting him to forget it and never think about it again. But he remembered, the basic explanation solidifying in his brain even as the years passed and he started getting better, more detailed explanations.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembered the way everything had seemed fine, the future stretching ahead of the little family infinite and fun, the promise of new information ahead of him, and new opportunities to come year by year. They were all happy, a normal all American family, especially as Mary had sat there four months pregnant with their second child, a new friend for Dean to have by his side forever.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was four when his mom died, an electrical fault which led to a fire which led to their little family, the same one whose future had seemed so bright just eleven months before, crumbling to the ground in a pile of ash and debris.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn't really notice the difference in his dad at first, they were subtle at first, and then even as they became more obvious Dean didn't question them. John was grieving, they all were, and as a four year old who had just lost his mom, his dad's odd behaviours seemed justified. Of course everything would be weird, nothing was ever going to be the same again. He just had to wait for his dad to adjust to the new normal, like all the grief counselors told Dean he needed to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it never got better, and before he knew it, Dean wasn't who he had been before. He lost everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lost his mom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he lost his home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he lost his dad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he lost his childhood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was all whisked away one blink after the next, the universe not even giving Dean time to find his footing again before the next piece fell away and he was sent stumbling in a new direction, scrabbling for something to hold onto while all his safety nets had disappeared.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was six when he finally understood what was actually happening. He'd spent years pretending that nothing was going on, that everything was normal, that this was how it was supposed to be. This was how it was for everyone. But he talked to the other kids at the schools he went to, and he knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They didn't do most of the raising of their kid brothers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their dad didn't talk to them more like a soldier than a person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their dad didn't leave for days at a time, leaving them in charge of a two year old and a motel room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn't tell the teacher, or any adult, even though he knew he should. He was six years old but he already knew that family came first, and who cared if his family was a little weirder than most, they were still family. He didn't want to lose Sammy, he didn't want to lose his dad. They were all he had left, and good or bad, he was keeping them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They would stay together, and that was how it should be.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was ten when the small black </span>
  <b>horizontal</b>
  <span> line appeared on his wrist. He had been at school, his wrist had been itchy, and even without looking down he had known what he would find. He'd expected a vertical line, to tell the truth, to match his dad's. Maybe then his dad would be proud of him. Maybe then everything would be okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no. It was the wrong direction. It was wrong. He'd pulled his sleeves down over his wrist, and done his best to ignore it the rest of the school day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even while trying his best, it still felt like it was burning a hole in his sleeve and like everyone would be able to see it, no matter how he tried to hide it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His dad had never told him what it meant, he had barely talked about any of the marks since that one time when he was three, but he knew. It wasn't normal for it to show up before you were at least sixteen, though even that was still counted as pretty early, but he still knew what it was, even if it was six years too early. Playground games, school, and overhearing random conversations between adults had taught him that much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was a Sub.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the last few weeks made sense. Why his hatred of displeasing his dad had increased so much so quickly, why he had started feeling an almost physical pull to do what his dad told him to. Why his entire life he had done whatever he could to be what his dad wanted him to be, even while Sam - poor innocent six year old Sam - rebelled at every turn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a feeling of dread when he told his dad what had happened, a feeling that only got worse when he showed his dad his wrist and watched the look of disgust flicker over his face, as though the small horizontal line had personally offended him.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was eleven. He wore enough bracelets to cover his entire wrist. When Sam asked, he said it was fashion, and that he liked them. That was all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was eleven. He knew that he should never speak a word of what was hidden under the bracelets. Not if he liked people respecting him. Not unless he wanted to be attacked. Not unless he wanted to be treated like the weakling he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was eleven. His dad ignored him unless he had an order to give, and spent more time as far away as he could get than at the motel. Dean knew it was his fault.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was eleven. He knew better than to call John 'dad' to his face, unless he wanted a very physical reminder of what John Winchester thought about Subs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was eleven. He realized that what he had thought was bad when he was younger, was nothing compared to now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was eleven. He wished that he had never presented. He wished the black mark on his wrist would just go away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wished he'd never been born.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh yeah, I'm fine," Dean said into the phone, hoping that he had managed to keep his voice steady even while the rest of his body did whatever it could to practically vibrate off the bar stool. He took another long drag of his beer and signalled the bartender, asking for some whiskey shots without a word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure Dean?" Sam asked, his voice slightly muffled by the phone, yet still managing to be just as annoying as ever. Sam had presented as Dom, and had instantly been John's favourite, but ever since he'd managed to escape from them to head off to college to become a law student, it was like he thought he knew better. He had finally seen what Dean had figured out at six years old, that their childhoods were not normal, and now he thought that he needed to save Dean from what he 'hadn't figured out yet'.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then again, to be fair to Sam, all he knew about was the moving around and the strangely military like situation and John leaving for ages. He didn't even know about Dean being a Sub. And sure, what he did know was weird, but it made sense. It wasn't as bad as the truth was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John had been in the military, and when he was working of course he would leave a fourteen year old with an eighteen year old. Sam didn't remember how it was the exact same when they were only children, when it was a six year old being left with a ten year old. He didn't know of the whispered orders John gave Dean, the secret insults, the hidden bruises.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He downed his shots, ordering another round before he was even halfway through this one. He knew his limit, and he needed to surpass it tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it was best that way. Sam should never know. Sam could never know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course I'm sure," Dean replied, making sure to control his voice so it sounded like he was annoyed, not desperately throwing back shots to try and quell the need in his bones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But dad-" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"John isn't here at the moment," Dean said before Sam could continue, trying to hide the bitterness in his tone. Sure, John did not treat Dean well, but his orders were all Dean had to keep him balanced, and even if they weren't great, and even if they were only keeping him an inch into the safe zone, and even if they came with beatings and insults and the rest of it, it was best he had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What other option did he have? Tell someone what he was really hiding under his bracelets and just wait for them to abuse him? No thank you. He'd been dealing with John's abuse for over a decade. He knew what to expect, and that made it safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He left you again? I don't even know why you still stay with him. He spends more time away then he does nearby!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean snorted quietly into his newest drink. That was true enough. Nowadays John pretty much only came to find Dean when he needed a warm body to push around, or was particularly angry or low on money. Normally it was all of the above.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately at the moment it seemed like John had enough money, and had probably found some unmarked who would let him boss them around without being as needy and pathetic as a Sub, so Dean was left here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In some bar in Illinois, which he didn't even know the name of, trying to drink himself into a supor and maybe find a warm body to fuck like the unmarked he was pretending to be. It wouldn't solve anything, but it should be enough to get him through until John came back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he was ever coming back that was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He's family Sam," Dean sighed, "I'm not just going to leave him. It's not like I have anywhere better to be." What would he do if he didn't have John? He couldn't keep doing this every day for the rest of his life. He'd destroy his liver before he managed to quell his instincts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You always have a place where I am," Sam reminded him, just like he always did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," Dean said, just like he always did. "Now go on bitch, go study for that exam you were telling me about. Don't forget to text me how it goes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jerk, I'll talk to you later."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then there was the dull buzzing of a disconnected line and Dean was free to down as many shots as he could afford without having to pause every now and again to answer his brother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a moment to look around the bar, looking for someone - anyone - who looked like they wouldn't mind a quick fuck. He needed the closeness, and although he wasn't going to give his instincts the kind of closeness and connection it wanted, he had always found that this was the next best thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lifted his bottle of beer again to take a large swig. It was not as good at the harder stuff but he needed it so that he could convince people he wasn't as hammered as he actually was. The movement made his bracelets shift, not enough to reveal his shameful secret, but enough to remind him that it existed. He hated it all. Wished he could have been a Dom like Sam was. Maybe then someone would be proud of him. Maybe then this wouldn't be how he lived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gestured to the bartender again. He was nowhere near drunk enough yet and the need was getting worse. Like his instincts could sense the unsuspecting Doms he was sure filled this bar, and was desperate for them to come and help. It didn't matter what his instincts wanted anyway. He refused to be abused by some random stranger, just because his brain was screwed on wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new drink was put in front of him. He didn't even know what it was this time, just that it was alcohol and he was going to drink it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached out, wrapping his fingers around the damp glass, but before he could lift it up a large hand was placed over the top of the glass, stopping him from being able to drink it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think that's enough alcohol for now, don't you?" The voice was gravelly, the kind of voice that Dean felt like he could drown in. The kind he would happily let consume him from the inside out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Pay your tab," the voice whispered to him, low and commanding, "you're done."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean wanted to argue, he really did, but he didn't have anything to say. Any reasons he had to rebel against the man were just melting away, and without even thinking about it he handed money over to the bartender and sat back on his stool, turning slightly to face the man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was… he was beautiful. All hard lines and fluffy hair and brilliant blue eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good boy," the man muttered, forcing Dean to pretend the two words didn't affect him at all. Like he was just a normal unmarked who didn't react to praise in a stupidly positive way at all. "Do you have someone I can call for you? I think you need to head home."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean laughed quietly to himself. Dean Winchester? Having someone to call? Never.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No one in the area," Dean answered with more difficulty than he really should have, something inside him starting to settle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy smiled and Dean felt his eyes wandering, taking in as much of his new bar stool neighbour as he could. Dean's first assessment had barely given him justice. His smile was like the sun, his arm muscles - visible where his shirt sleeves were rolled up - showed how strong he was, his tan skin contrasting with the… the vertical black mark along his wrist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This guy was a Dom. He had given Dean an order, and now he was feeling better. Great. Now time for Dean to get the hell out of dodge before anyone figured out what had happened. Except… the difficulty speaking, the way his mind was starting to go fuzzy. Maybe less great.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, well I can't just leave you here, especially not like this. So, I guess you're crashing at my place."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean felt himself freeze up. This was everything his dad had ever said would happen. His only saving grace right now was that the guy didn't know he was a Sub, not yet anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine," he muttered, making sure to hide how difficult he was finding it. "I'll just go home and sleep my hangover off. You don't have to worry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." the Dom shook his head, clearly not buying any of Dean's bullshit. "You're coming back to mine. I promise not to do anything, but I am not letting you go off alone like this. You don't know who could find you and take advantage."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Like you?" Dean gritted out, hanging on to his sanity as much as he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I will not hurt you Sub. I just want to protect you. Look me in the eyes, do you really think that I'm going to hurt you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean looked up, unable to stop himself from making eye contact with the unknown Dom, unable to stop himself from staring into his eyes and looking for what he really wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." The word escaped Dean before he could stop it, and even the man's use of his hidden presentation wasn't enough to stop it from being true. He was safe with this man, and he didn't know how he was so sure, but he really was.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was originally planning to wait until the weekend to update this, but y'all's comments just made me want to update earlier, and I have zero self-control, so here we are!<br/>I hope you enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean woke up the next morning feeling just as shitty as he had been for the last week. It wasn't a new thing, he normally had a small cloud of badness hanging over his head while John was away, and even when he was around, and his orders had removed that particular problem, one bad cloud was just traded for another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rubbing his eyes he rolled over in bed, stretching like a cat and nearly groaning at how nice the bed felt under his back. Apparently even the worst motel beds could be made comfortable by exhaustion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wait a minute…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean threw himself upright, his eyes flying open as he looked around the unfamiliar room. Not even the exhaustion that followed Dean like a bad smell was enough to make the cheap motel beds he slept in comfortable. The bed he had woken up in wasn't his motel bed, the room he was sitting in wasn't his motel room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, admittedly it wasn't unusual for him to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, often with someone snoring besides him and the evidence of the night before plastered on every surface, but this time he was in a twin bed, in what was clearly a guest room based on the decoration, and - he peeked under the covers to check - yep, his jeans may have disappeared but he was still wearing yesterday's underwear and his top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To make things even weirder, he wasn't hungover. Well, that was a lie. He was hungover, but not as badly as he usually was. It was a pounding in his head, but more like overly loud music than the normal full construction team he gained after a night out like that one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So… he hadn't found a warm body to go home with, and this wasn't his motel, and he hadn't managed to drink as much as he usually did, then what the hell happened the night before?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He racked his brain, trying to find the missing pieces that sleep and alcohol had taken away. He remembered going to the bar, trying to chase away the horrors of his biology, remembered ordering drink after drink, remembered talking to Sam - lying to Sam - remembered looking for a warm body to take home… and then…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then the Dom found him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, he'd told the truth. Clearly nothing had happened between them, other than the Dom removing his jeans, and Dean got the feeling that he had probably been sent straight here after they got back to the Dom's house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He breathed out noisily. This was… not what he expected when he had agreed to go home with the Dom last night. Even trusting him like his drunken Sub mind apparently had, he had still half expected </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad to happen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a note on the bedside table, Dean realized while he looked around the room again, along with a glass of water and a couple of pills which Dean imagined were probably pain killers, but even after everything that had happened he was too cautious to take them. They could be anything, and his headache really wasn't bad enough for him to risk it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring both the pills and the water, Dean grabbed the note. It was written in neat cursive, clearly written by someone with a steady hand and lots of time to be neat, unlike the messy scrawl that Dean wrote in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sub,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've had to leave for work, but didn't want to wake you up. You seemed like you needed all the sleep you could get.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eat whatever you want from the kitchen, I've left some pain killers by your bed as well, but just in case you want to get your own, I still have a sealed pack in the medicine cabinet - the mirrored one in the bathroom.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You are welcome to stay the day, or go, but please look after yourself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stared at the note for what felt like hours. It was- he was-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was signed Castiel, that must have been the Dom who had taken him home the night before. It was nice to finally be able to put a name to a face, even if it was a name as strange and unpronounceable as Castiel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed, way too tired and his head too much of a mess to go through the emotions that note caused him. "Please look after yourself?" Like he actually cared… and yet… he told Dean where to find a sealed pack of painkillers, like he knew that Dean - or Sub, the guy didn't actually know his name apparently - wouldn't necessarily trust him, and was more bothered about Dean getting the medication than the trust aspect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was- actually really thoughtful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the lingering thoughts of Castiel. He just wanted to leave, go back to his motel, and forget this ever happened. Who cared if this Castiel guy seemed to care more about him than anyone else, who cared if just a few words from the guy and a note calling him Sub made him feel better than he had since that little black mark had first turned up, Castiel knew what Dean was and that could never end well. It would be best to leave now before things got worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He showered quickly, opening the sealed bottle of painkillers to quiet the pounding in his head and changing back into yesterday's clothes. He'd found his jeans on a random chair in the room he'd slept in, and his shoes were standing clearly by the front door. Castiel was making sure he knew that he was able to leave any time he wanted to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which was right now. Obviously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still made the most of the free breakfast, but that was just because he never turned down free food, and he was hungry. Food cost money, and John never left him with enough. Turning this down was not a risk Dean was willing to take, when eating now could help him survive a day or two longer without having to resort to desperate measures to feed himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if he also stayed for a bit to watch some television on Castiel's massive telly, then that was just making the most of a bad situation. Motel televisions were awful at best, and sometimes it was nice to watch an episode of Dr Sexy without having to worry about the picture cutting out, or having to squint to tell some of the characters apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if he was somehow still there when Castiel got home that evening, then it was just because he lost track of time.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was curled up in an overstuffed armchair when he heard the door open. He hadn't realized how quickly the day had gone, and had been enjoying the sun shining through the large windows without realizing how soon Castiel would get home. His head flew around, checking the clock while a strange feeling of equal parts calmness and panic overtook him. He was used to this, when it was one of these days, the strange and contradictory emotions which would come and go within moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>5:30pm</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. He'd been here all day. He had been planning to go, preferably long before Castiel even thought about leaving work, but then he just hadn't. He couldn't really explain it, probably just his weakness corrupting his thoughts, convincing him that staying with this Dom was a good idea, but clearly it had worked because here he was. Still here, listening while the footsteps got closer and closer, until the door of the room he was in swung open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was silent for a moment, Dean sat still like prey hiding from a predator, hoping that maybe he wouldn't be seen and he would finally have a chance to sneak away - even if he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to sneak away at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello Sub," Castiel said, a pleased smile plastered on his face when Dean shifted around to see him. Apparently sometime during his thinking, Castiel had spotted him. Dean wondered for one terrifying moment if maybe Castiel hadn't meant it when he said that Dean could stay. Or maybe he had meant it, but now Dean had fallen into his trap. Or maybe-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's nice to see you again. Have you eaten yet?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ummm," Dean muttered, caught out by how normal Castiel was acting, like it was completely normal for him to invite someone he didn't even know to spend the night. "I had lunch," he said slowly, "but nothing since then."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay then, I'm going to go and get changed and then you can help me cook dinner if you'd like." Castiel said, turning his back on Dean like it really didn't matter to him what Dean did. Maybe… maybe he didn't? His note said that Dean could do whatever, all he asked was that Dean looked after himself… but then again… he knew Dean was a sub without even seeing. He did all this, and didn't even know Dean's name. He was either incredibly nice, incredibly stupid, or incredibly dangerous, and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to stick around long enough to find out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How did you know what I was?" He asked instead of answering Castiel's question. "You couldn't have seen my mark, my bracelets covered them, and even my behaviour wouldn't have been enough to give me away."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel looked surprised at Dean's question, but not worried like he would if he was hiding something. Caught unaware, but not off guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I could feel it. I could see it in every move you made. Every part of your body language screamed of a Sub in distress, I don't know how no one else picked up on it." Castiel talked easily, like everything he was saying made complete sense. And maybe to him it did. But to Dean? This was bonkers. Sam was a fairly good Dom, he'd been taught by John from the day he presented, and yet he had never even suspected what Dean was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one had ever suspected, and yet here was this guy, claiming he could tell from Dean's body language, that he could feel it. It just didn't make sense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How did you-" he stopped himself, unsure where he wanted to go with that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know you don't know who I am, and I understand that me revealing what I knew must have surprised you, but I really do mean no harm." Castiel's eyes were bright and clear, and Dean could see that he was telling the truth. Could tell that he really was as trustworthy as Dean felt he was? "You can leave any time if you decide that you really can't trust me, I promise, I just couldn't let you go home alone last night. You were too close to subspace to be alone." Dean knew it was all true, but that didn't stop how small and weak he felt having it spelled out. A random Dom had to take him home because he was too weak to look after himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think cooking would be nice," Dean said, promptly changing the subject. He wasn't sure when his brain decided he was staying for that long, but he wasn't about to change that now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, I'll be right back." Castiel walked out the room, not seeming bothered with the sudden topic change. Dean heard as his footsteps narrated his journey to the room above where Dean was - what must be his bedroom - and then while he walked around probably getting changed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stared out the window, watching the sun ripple across the garden and the birds fly around. It was peaceful and even if he wasn't, the peace surrounding him almost managed to trick his body and mind into calming too. It was nice, and Dean knew that he would have to make sure to find a nice garden wherever John dumped him next. Maybe he could look for a garden here, but judging from how close to the edge he was getting, he had the feeling John would be back soon. John liked keeping Dean skirting the edge, it kept him obedient and meant he never complained - yes, Dean was self aware enough to realize that how John treated him was bad, he was just too desperate and alone to try and leave - but John didn't want to push him off the edge. It was the perfect balance, and so far John seemed to manage to keep it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sub? Are you okay?" Castiel had appeared next to him again, looking slightly concerned and sounding like he'd been calling for a while. He must have been really deep in his thoughts to not hear Castiel walk in, he should really be more alert around an unknown Dom. The only problem was the closer he got to the edge, the harder it was to concentrate, and Dean was constantly close to it. He knew it wasn't healthy, he also knew that he would rather kill himself this way, than by trusting the wrong person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sorry, got caught up in my thoughts," Dean said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He wasn't in the mood to explain all his problems to a stranger, and desperately hoped he wouldn't be asked to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel hummed quickly, turning to start walking into what Dean could only assume was the kitchen. "I was thinking of cooking some burgers," Castiel said, not looking like he had even been planning to ask what was in Dean's thoughts, "do you still want to help?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure," Dean grinned, unfolding himself out of the chair and stretching out any aches, "I don't know if you have a certain burger recipe, but I have spent many a year perfecting the perfect recipe if you want me to go cook that."</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>"That sounds perfect Sub, I'll make some salad and some vegetables to put in them." Dean suddenly realized that Castiel was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>calling him Sub. He didn't know Dean's name, but even though he had given Dean his name, he didn't ask for Dean's in response. He was… respecting Dean's privacy? That was a weird thought. Castiel really was a puzzling kind of guy.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it!<br/>Comments and Kudos are love!!!<br/>Next chapter will probably be up sometime this weekend!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Seriously guys... I love you all. The only reason I didn't post this earlier was because I needed to edit it. <br/>So yeah... thank you! It means a lot to me!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They worked together easily, Dean focusing on making and frying up the burger patties while Castiel chopped vegetables, both to go in the burgers and to make a salad to have on the side. Apparently Castiel was another one of the weird health nuts who Dean always found himself surrounded by… maybe they could smell his unhealthy eating a mile away or something. Castiel wasn't given any more orders, just cutting quietly and leaving Dean to do his own thing - which Dean was both glad about, and embarrassingly disappointed about - and Dean could feel his thoughts drifting periodically, further and further away every time it happened. It was like there was something trying to pull them out of his head and if he didn't cling on tight his thoughts would disappear completely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flipped the batch of burgers, trying to focus on the noise they made as they started to sizzle, and ignore how his vision blurred, the perfectly formed burgers turning more into blurry blobs as the details in everything blurred away. He really needed to find some busy bar full of potential hook-ups, the kind where no one knows anyone else, and most things are either forgotten the next day, or never talked about again. That should deal with at least half his problems right now, and maybe he could grab a bottle of Jack Daniels next time he was at the store to deal with every other stupid thing his biology put him through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How long was it until John was going to reappear? He'd been gone for a while, not as long as he was usually gone though, and the realization that John was unlikely to be back any time soon filled Dean with dread. Because as much as he disliked it, he really needed John to come back, preferably as soon as possible. He had gotten to this stage faster than last time, John's orders getting less and less effective as the years went on, and that thought terrified Dean. What would happen to him then?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn't like there was anyone else he could go to. It was John or falling over the edge he was constantly walking, and if John was no longer an option… then really he had no choices left. No cards to play. No way to get out of that one. He would fall, and he would fall hard, and a bullet in his brain would be the humane next step.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he best make that three bottles, and maybe tomorrow rather than just next time he was passing by a store, he mused silently to himself as he moved the cooked patties onto a plate. They were there to wait to be built into burgers once all the patties were done, but right then Dean wasn't sure he was going to make it long enough to cook them all, his vision so blurred he could barely even see the kitchen around him, the uncooked patties he still had to try and fry just odd red blobs which honestly looked more like blood splatters than soon to be cooked burger patties. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did his best to cling to the reality surrounding him, Castiel's kitchen, the burger patties, the heat of the pan, Castiel just out of sight. He tried to ground himself with anything, tried to stop the inevitable slip, but everything around him was slipping out of his fingers faster than water, and it wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried to keep holding on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A high pitched whine started up from somewhere around him, and he was too out of it to realize that it was coming from his own throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sub? Sub are you there?" A concerned voice drifted through his mind, hardening into what was clearly an order when it barked out, "Sub come back to me. Now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked slowly, his stupid biology's inability to ignore a direct order actually turning out to be useful for once, his eyes focusing on the kitchen around him once more, finally coming to rest on Castiel who was standing in front of him, holding tightly to his biceps in a way that Dean was sure would hurt if he was a bit more aware of his own body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm here," Dean croaked out, licking his dry lips and swallowing a couple of times to try and get saliva back into his mouth. He was unable to tell how long he'd been away this time, could have been seconds, minutes, hours, he didn't know, but he knew it must have been a while for Castiel to be this worried about him. "I'm here."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What just happened?" Castiel didn't sound like he was blaming Dean, which was more than could be said for John whenever Dean did that near him, but it was clear that Castiel wasn't going to take silence as an answer this time, his eyes blazing and his grip on Dean's arm only tightening the longer Dean took to answer. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know now. Apparently the Dom had decided that the whole respecting boundaries thing and waiting for someone to be ready to say what was going on in their life had a time and a place, and now wasn't it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, I don't know," Dean whispered, unconsciously curling his shoulders in to make himself smaller, less of a target. "It just happens sometimes. I just need to- I just… I know what to do. I'll figure something out." He didn't know why he couldn't say what he needed to do to Castiel. Maybe he was worried the Dom would take advantage of him, maybe he was ashamed. He couldn't figure out his own emotions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sub," Castiel hadn't let go of his arm, but his grip had loosened a little bit, and his eyes were slightly softer than before, even if they were still burning with that same emotion - conviction? - that they'd had before. "Describe it to me?" It was worded as a question, but there was no doubt in Dean's mind that it was a command, the steel undercurrent leaving no room for disobedience. Some stupid part of Dean relaxed at the order, and he cursed his stupid brain. From the look in his eyes, Castiel didn't miss it, and Dean took a moment to curse his stupid brain all over again. He couldn't trust Castiel, not really, no matter what his instincts thought, and yet here he was, giving away all his cards against his will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's like a riptide, dragging me away from reality," Dean muttered, staring at the floor so he didn't have to look into Castiel's piercing blue eyes. "Like my thoughts are running away from me and fog is taking their place." When he risked a glance up, Castiel was nodding, his gaze appeared to be fixed on a spot somewhere behind Dean as he was clearly deep in thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And this happens often?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean didn't answer, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. How could he tell this Dom that he felt like this whenever his dad was away for too long, which was often, without sounding like someone who would be easy to take advantage of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's why you fell into 'space so easily," Castiel muttered quietly, his eyes glued onto Dean again, "when was the last time you scened with anyone, Sub?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's eyes went wide. That wasn't something you just asked someone! It was impolite, especially when you barely knew each other. It was like asking someone when they last got laid, but some kind of deeper, even personal version of it. And seeing as this was someone Dean barely trusted, who might still be trying to take advantage of him, it was even worse to ask it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Does it matter?" His voice was sharp, all of his defences as high up as he could get them. He felt like the Dom was trying to look right through him, and it just made him want to hide, maybe run away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes it does," Castiel's voice was definitely softer than before, like he was talking to a wild animal which he didn't want to scare off. The undercurrent of worry underneath it though, that sounded real, like Castiel was almost trying to hide it, but unable to. "I've seen this before, never exactly like this though." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean wished he knew why everything the Dom said sounded so sincere. Why Dean was having such a hard time trusting him, yet instinctually believed and trusted everything he said. Even if his logic was fighting back, it didn't stop the fact that deep down, he kind of trusted Castiel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean never quite like this before?" Dean asked slowly, he didn't know much about what was happening to him, doing his best to ignore anything to do with his subness as much as he could, but Castiel's words confused him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Every Sub displays the stress differently, just like every Dom does, though it's less likely for a Dom to have the same problem - I don't actually know why, scientists should really look into that. Anyway," Castiel sighed, waving a hand in the air, "point is, the other couple of times I've seen this, they've acted differently, but I suppose the underlying theme is the same."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment Dean felt a bolt of hope go through him, his irrational brain suggesting that this was good, that Castiel knew how people reacted, he had seen this multiple times, he could help him get away from the line he walked every day, before his logical brain caught up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because okay, maybe this Dom could help him. But then what?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trusting people who weren't family had only ever got Dean hurt, most of the time trusting family got him hurt too. Trusting people always ended up with Dean alone, and hurt, and worse off than before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least he knew what John was going to do. The predictability was comforting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just a problem that every part of Dean wanted to trust the Dom. Even the logical parts which knew he would just get hurt, they wanted to trust him anyway. He was nice, and kind, and had let Dean stay, and seemed like the kind of Dom who would never hurt a Sub, though Dean had no idea where he got that idea from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"When was the last time you scened?" Castiel asked again, his eyes on Dean making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "It must have been a while, I just need to know how long."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Never." The word escaped Dean before he could stop it, and he wondered when his instincts had decided to trust Castiel - the moment they first met he would assume - but it was too late to take it back and now he just had to watch the results, and hope it didn't destroy him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Never?" Castiel's voice was higher than Dean had ever heard it, shock and worry fighting each other for the most prominent emotion. "You've never done a scene?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No," Dean didn't want to explain why not, but he wasn't sure Castiel would let him get away with not exposing anything. He would want to know, and Dean would need to answer. That was just how it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How are you still alive?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My- my dad," Dean muttered. It was the first time he'd referred to John like that for years, and it felt weird, wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He kept you stable?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean snorted quietly, unable to hold it back. What John was doing could barely count as keeping him stable, but he guessed it was about as close to the truth as he'd be able to get without saying something which would make Castiel insanely worried - if he truly cared about Dean as much as he seemed to. "Close enough."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's not safe," Castiel was shaking his head, his own gaze locked on the floor as they glimmered with an emotion that Dean couldn't quite figure out. "You can't live like that, not forever."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can try."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But- there is no need! There is no reason for you to have to live like that!" Castiel looked so concerned, so sad over the thought of Dean trying to live without a Dom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And what? I should scene with you?" Dean hissed, "I should trust you - and every other Dom - enough to make myself that vulnerable?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No! Of course not!" Cas stumbled back a step, as though physically pushed by Dean's words. "You shouldn't have to be vulnerable with anyone you don't know and trust, but you also shouldn't be stuck just on the edge of insanity."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of the fight just drained out of Dean, as he basically collapsed to the floor, a slight smile appearing on his face when Cas followed him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can we- can we eat, and then finish this conversation?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course," Cas agreed, standing up and reaching a hand out to help Dean up as well. "Are you okay with finishing the burgers?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean sighed, walking over to continue cooking them and trying to ignore the worried glances Castiel kept sending him, like he was worried Dean would collapse any moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ended up sitting next to each other at the table, quietly eating their burgers. There was no conversation between them, none of the easy comfortableness that had been between them before. Instead there was just awkward silence, unsaid words, and more distrust than Dean thought there had ever been between them, and that included when they first met and didn't even know each other's names.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that Castiel actually knew Dean's name now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why do you even care?" Dean asked, breaking the silence without even fully meaning to say the words out loud. He was fiddling with the bracelets which covered his wrist, unable to keep his hands still when he was feeling so… so wrong footed. Like the rug was being pulled and he didn't yet know if he was going to land on his feet or fall flat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Pardon?" Because of course Castiel was the kind of person who said pardon instead of what. He seemed like the type, and he really was the type.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why do you even care what happens to me? Soon enough I'll get out of your hair, and then you won't have to worry if I'm subbing for anyone or not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel sighed loudly, pushing a hand through his hair before it came to rest on the bridge of his nose. "Because, believe it or not, you actually seem like a really nice person," Castiel answered slowly, "and I may not have known you very long, and I don't know why you don't trust Dom's, but I know you don't deserve any of this, and I know that it doesn't matter if you are here or not, I'm going to worry about you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stared at the table for a long moment, Castiel's words echoing through his mind again and again. "Do you really mean all that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course," Castiel nodded with conviction, sincerity dancing in his eyes as he stared at Dean like he couldn't quite figure out why he didn't get it. Whatever 'it' was. "I know you can't trust me," Castiel frowned, "but please believe me Sub when I tell you I will never lie to you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh yeah, I've heard that one before." Dean laughed, the sound empty. "I know you want me to believe you when you promise you're telling the truth, but I just can't."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's okay, all I can ask is for you to do your best." For some reason Castiel's words calmed Dean down a lot. He didn't understand it, but knowing that Castiel wasn't angry at him for not being able to trust him, actually made him trust him a lot more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Have you ever met anyone? Anyone who- who fell over the edge?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel stared down at his plate, as though he couldn't bear to look at Dean while he answered. "Yes, once," his voice was quiet, pained, "she was a sub, quite a bit like you to be honest. Bright and amazing, and a gift to the world, but unsure who to trust after a bad Dom had messed with her." Dean can't fully tell, Castiel's eyes too low for Dean to get a good look, but he thought there were tears gathering in Castiel's eyes as he talked. "I didn't know her well enough to help, she was new to the area, she'd come here for a new start, but it wasn't enough, and before any of us knew it her Sub side had been repressed too long and- well you can imagine what happened."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What-" Dean's voice caught in his throat, his own eyes wide as he stared over at Castiel. "What happened to her after that? Did she die?" He winced, knowing he was being insensitive. He shouldn't have said it like that, he'd just- it felt about as close to home as could be expected, and asking about this other Sub was almost like looking into his future.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She didn't die," Castiel shook his head, reaching a hand up to wipe his eyes, "I don't really know what happened. Her parents came to collect her - even if she had no idea who they were - and I never heard anything again. Maybe they got her back, they're doing research into it at the moment, I think when she fell there was about a one in one thousand chance, but maybe she was one of the lucky ones."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maybe," Dean whispered, though they both knew it was unlikely. One in a thousand in fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know this is going to make it sound like you're just a charity case, or me trying to make up for my past failings - which you are not. I would want to help you whether I had seen this happen to someone else or not - but I refuse to watch anyone else fade like she did. I refuse to sit on the side-lines when my very biology means I'm equipped to help. I barely have to do anything, and it could help you even if it's just to buy you a bit of time to find a permanent solution!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sincerity in Castiel's voice was actually shocking. Sure, he'd been sincere the entire time, but for some reason… this was different. He sounded like he actually gave a shit about Dean, sounded like he really did want to help, and it was just because he wanted to, rather than wanting something out of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And there are no… strings attached?" Dean checked, at least partially unable to believe this could be real, that he could really be thinking about agreeing to Sub for someone, while also feeling safe about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"None at all. You'd be able to leave at any time, after aftercare. You will not go before I have looked after you and made sure you're okay, but after that, whenever." There was just enough Dom in Castiel's voice that Dean could tell that he was nowhere near joking, which was at least slightly reassuring. A Dom that serious about aftercare wasn't going to abandon him to the wolves mid-drop or mid-'space like John had always told him would happen. The added clause should have scared him, you can never trust a deal once it's started getting complicated, but this one… Castiel had little to gain from it. It just safeguarded Dean's likelihood of getting out in one piece.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel was nothing like John had always said the kind of Dom's Dean would attract would be like. He was kind and considerate and just- a world away from everything Dean had ever known.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He already knew what he was going to do, no matter how strange it was for him to realize, he knew he was going to say yes. A ninety percent chance of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was one thing that didn't quite add up… one thing he had to clear up before he announced his decision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's not going to set off the whole 'don't let my Sub leave me' instinct or whatever?" Dean asked sceptically, a single eyebrow raising as he stared at Castiel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not some kind of animal, Sub," Castiel sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair, accidently reminding Dean that Castiel still didn't know his real name, or any name to be honest, and yet he still hadn't asked. "I can manage to ignore some instinct that hasn't been useful for thousands of years. You're not an object, you are a person, and if you want to go I will let you go."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stared into Castiel's eyes for a long moment, desperately searching for any sign that he was lying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn't find a single one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay," he said quietly, "I'll- scene with you. Just once, but- we'll see."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you Sub," Castiel beamed, that smile alone somehow lifting years of stress and confusion and scepticism off Dean's shoulders. "I promise you won't regret it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Dean knew he would find a way to keep that promise.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!!<br/>Comments and kudos mean a lot to me!!<br/>Next chapter should be up some time next week... probably Wednesday or Thursday.<br/>Hopefully I'll see you then!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello guys!!!<br/>This week has gone... incredibly quickly so far. I swear I last updated this story yesterday, but apparently not because here we are!<br/>Thanks to everyone that commented! I probably said this at the weekend, but yeah, it really does mean a lot to me!!<br/>Hope you like the chapter!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean hadn't expected them to get started straight away, it was late after all, and sudden, and even after only knowing Cas for a day, he knew the Dom wouldn't risk either of their mental health in such a way. Dean had expected that they would just tidy up, maybe watch some TV, or talk for a bit, and then they would head to bed, and hopefully scene tomorrow - Dean had the feeling that if they didn't start soon, he would lose his nerve and run away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That wasn't what happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Come with me Sub," Castiel had said, his voice back in that particular tone that was completely Dom. It sent shivers through Dean's spine, and even though he could have completely ignored him, and his order, Dean didn't want to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes Sir," Dean said, already starting to follow Castiel before he registered the words out his mouth. He'd called John sir before - of course he had - but this was the first time he'd ever said it like… well like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good boy," Castiel smiled, somehow managing to balance his appreciation of how big it was for Dean, while not making it too big of a deal and scaring him off. Dean didn't think anyone had ever managed to figure out how to read him that well, that quickly. Even Sam still couldn't figure out how to be proud without overbearing, and yet here was Castiel, figuring it out in a day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were silent on their way to the guest room - the one Dean had woken up in - no words passed between them, but Castiel's hand was steadying and firm against the small of his back, and even though Dean felt like he should be, he didn't feel scared or worried or on edge or anything. Castiel's presence was calming, and he knew he was safe, even if he didn't know why he knew that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel dropped a cushion onto the floor - one that Dean hadn't even seen he had - just in front of him. It was clear what it was there for, but Dean didn't move until he was told to. It wasn't his job to figure out what to do, it was his job to follow directions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kneel."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean dropped like a sack of potatoes, the pillow the only thing protecting his kneecaps. He had seen Subs before, watched them kneel in the middle of a bar at the drop of a hat. They always managed to sink down so gracefully. Nothing at all like the mess Dean had made of the whole thing.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An irrational fear started bubbling up inside his chest as he kneeled on the cushion. He was nothing like all the other Subs, he was too big and too loud and he couldn't follow an order to save his life - that's what John said anyway - and even though he hadn't particularly wanted to Sub for Castiel in the first place, the thought of disappointing the Dom felt… felt like something Dean had never felt before. It felt awful. Like the deepest parts of his soul were yelling at him not to do it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel knew that Dean had never done anything like this before, that was the whole reason they were doing it. Maybe Castiel wouldn't mind that he was so bad at everything. He hadn't seemed too annoyed at the time, and maybe he'd hoped that being a good Sub would come naturally, but clearly it didn't, so all Dean could do was hope that Castiel didn't get too angry at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well done, very good," Castiel hummed, and for a moment Dean wondered if they had seen different events. Because as far as Dean was aware, his kneeling was not good in the slightest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Umm… Sir," Dean started hesitantly, not sure if Castiel was about to yell at him to not talk, but also knowing he needed to ask something before this went any further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes Sweet Boy?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The name sent a shiver through Dean's back, but he did his best to hold his position, hiding the effect it'd had on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What are we doing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, placing a gentle hand on the side of Dean's face, so that he was cupping Dean's cheek. Dean leaned into the palm like a touch-starved cat, but he couldn't find it within himself to care about how pathetic he must look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean- this isn't a scene is it?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, it isn't," Cas agreed, his hand moving up to run through Dean's hair. "I wouldn't start a scene now, it's too late and it would just be irresponsible of me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So then what is this?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is-" Castiel stopped for a moment, as though he was trying to think his words over. "I can't start a scene now, as I just said, but I also can't, in good conscience, leave you as you are until tomorrow. So you’re going to submit to me, but not in a scene environment, just in the basic way that you should have been doing since you were a child." There was anger in his voice, but it wasn’t directed at Dean, so he just let it pass without comment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay… I think I can deal with that," Dean muttered, already starting to relax now that he knew what was happening. This was probably better anyway, he could get used to… get used to Castiel before they did an actual entire scene. Yeah, that would be good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay good," Castiel smiled, "I promise we aren't going to do anything big. Just enough to keep you on the right side of the edge."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded, relaxing even more into his position. It was weird, it felt almost natural, kneeling at Castiel's feet, like Dean was- he didn't want to think anything as cliché as 'made to be there' but that's what his mind was pointing him towards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If this was a scene I would have asked you for your safeword by now-" Dean opened his mouth to tell Castiel that he didn't have a safeword, that he had already failed him, but Castiel cut him off. "It's okay, I don't expect you to have one yet. All I ask is you try and figure one out in time for our scene tomorrow. Can you do that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes Sir," Dean whispered, his mind already dancing through the possibilities of what he could choose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright sweet boy," Castiel smiled gently, starting to circle around Dean. "Eyes down." Dean didn't know when his eyes had crept up, but as soon as it was pointed out he slammed his eyes back to the floor, watching Castiel's socked feet pass and trying his best not to tense up too much. "It's okay, relax, I'm not going to hurt you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was almost silent for the next couple of circles Castiel made, his hand trailing across his back whenever he was out of Dean's sight in a way that was much more calming than it had any right being.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay then, on the bed please." the Dom asked, and it was sudden enough to push Dean out of the comfort he had surrounded himself in, and right back into the uncomfortable reality of life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was submitting to someone, even if it wasn't a proper scene. Someone he didn't really know, even though he was doing his best to trust him. Dean looked upwards for a moment, looking into Castiel's eyes, trying to find the answers he knew he wouldn't find anywhere else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel just stared back, not even telling him off for staring into his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean said, dropping his eyes and walking to the bed. Castiel hadn't told him how he wanted Dean to be, so he just sat down in the middle, hugging his knees to his chest and watching as Castiel walked around the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay what?" Castiel asked, his voice harsher than it had been the entire time Dean had been there. It made Dean freeze, desperately trying to figure out what Castiel wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay Sir?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There we go." There was a smile in Castiel's voice now, a smile on his face as well when he turned around and started walking back to the bed, a bottle of something in one hand, and was that a feather?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What is that Sir?" he asked before he could stop himself, a breath caring in his throat even though a feather was the least threatening object imaginable. Maybe he should stop this, just leave. Clearly, if the amount of trust he had for Castiel was anything to go by, this was not going to work and he was an awful Sub. It would be better to just cut his losses now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's okay, just relax." Castiel's voice was soothing, yet still somehow managed to be commanding enough to speak directly to the Sub part of Dean. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you, you just need to trust me to help you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You will look after me?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Better than I look after myself," Castiel promised gravely, and Dean had to admit, it was that moment he started trusting him blindly. Unconditionally. Completely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then yes, Sir, do whatever you want."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel smiled happily, brighter than the sun, and Dean knew that he would do whatever he needed to, as long as Castiel kept smiling. He would submit, and do it happily, to Castiel, so long as he carried on being… being himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shirt off, you can leave everything else on so long as you are comfortable." The fuzzy feeling was back in Dean's head, his Dom's gentle orders doing their- wait what? No. Castiel wasn't his Dom. He was just… a Dom. A Dom who was looking after Dean until John was back. Until Dean was safe again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lie down, on your front please." Dean obeyed without even thinking about it, allowing the submissive part of his brain to escape from the locked box he normally kept it in, letting it enjoy the security of following Castiel's orders. The security of following his Dom's orders. He tried to argue back, Castiel still wasn't his Dom, but the rest of his head wasn't listening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel was his Dom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Out of your head sweet boy," Castiel interrupted his thoughts, "focus on me, not on you." In any other circumstance that would have sounded all kinds of creepy. Not this time. Dean was a Sub, Castiel's Sub for now at least, of course he was to focus on his Dom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There we go. How're you doing Sub?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We've barely… started," Dean replied, his words coming out with difficulty, having to focus just to form them properly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And yet you've already started sinking haven't you? This isn't even a full scene and you're already part way to subspace."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't… mean to-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." Castiel stopped him before he could get any more words out. "Do not apologize for something that is neither your fault, or a problem. It's just something I'm going to have to remember for tomorrow, so that I make sure to pay extra attention to your well-being."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean opened his mouth to respond - though he had no idea what he was actually planning to say - but Castiel cut him off before he could even start.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, it's okay sweet boy, just relax, let me look after you. We can talk more about all this tomorrow, when you are slightly more yourself." Dean nodded, and Castiel happily went back to pouring </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>onto his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked like some kind of oil, maybe Castiel was planning to-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stop it!" Castiel's voice was harsh again, a sharp noise echoing through the room from where he had slapped Dean's thigh, the heat spreading outwards and shocking Dean out of his thoughts once more. "It's not your job to think. It's mine. Just let it go. Okay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded again, feeling tension he hadn't even realized he was holding seep out of his body. He'd have to do better when they actually did an entire scene, he couldn't imagine Castiel would keep on being so patient while trying to correct him if he carried on like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel rubbed his hands together, warming whatever was on them, before he pressed his palms against Dean's back, pressing and twisting and slowly working the tension and knots away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean wanted to argue, wanted to ask how this was anything close to a scene, or anything close to submission, but his words still wouldn't come, and Castiel had told him to be quiet and just let him go wherever Castiel wanted - his Dom told him to leave it to him - so that's what he would do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He melted into the bed, just letting himself float and doing what Castiel asked him to whenever he was asked. It was easier than Dean and expected it would be. Even though he had never done it before, and he never thought he would be able to, letting go and letting Castiel take over just seemed… natural.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Submitting to Castiel felt natural. Felt good.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!!! I hope you're enjoying so far!!<br/>Next update should be the weekend!!<br/>I'll see you then!! ❤❤❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay this chapter is shorter than normal, and I'm really sorry about that, it was kinda just how the words happened, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean woke up the next morning comfortable in a bed that wasn't his, soft fluffy blankets wrapping around him in a way which was all consumingly safe. He didn't get disoriented this time, instantly knowing where he was and why, this time he woke up and was instantly surrounded with the knowledge that everything was okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything was more than okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was another note left on the side when he finally convinced himself to roll out of his cocoon of warmth, addressed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Sub' </span>
  </em>
  <span>again and with a similar overall message to last time, telling him he was welcome to eat whatever was in the house, and he would be back at 5, but this time there was one thing different. A single line that filled Dean with equal parts fear and excitement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We will start our scene at six, after a light meal which you are welcome to cook - or I'll just cook when I get home - make sure you are ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean had known they were going to do a scene, had even known it was going to be today, but somehow seeing it in front of him, written in Castiel's handwriting on a physical piece of paper, it just made the whole thing that much more real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn't just something that would happen at some point anymore. It had a date, and a time, and if Castiel was half the Dom he appeared to be, it had a plan too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was shaking, he realized detachedly, as he walked down the stairs and started rummaging through Castiel's cupboards to find some breakfast. Not because of fear, which was almost definitely a first for him, but because of anticipation, and Dean could tell that this was going to be one of those stupid days where every second feels like an hour, but every hour feels like a minute. One of those days where time moves too quickly yet too slowly at the same time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The breakfast he eventually chose - some kind of brown wheat flake thing which Dean could just tell was that healthy crap Sam would have loved because of course Castiel couldn't be a normal human being and buy good cereal - tasted bland, and Dean honestly didn't know if it was the cereal that tasted like that, or if Dean was just nervous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a lazy morning, hoping that everything would go quicker if it was midday before he even got dressed. It worked, in a sense, but it still felt like five years had passed before four rolled around, and Dean decided that he'd done too much sitting around, and it was time to make some dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembered Castiel's note, saying they would eat something light, so made sure to stick to that, cooking them up some chicken carbonara with what he found in Castiel's fridge. And okay, maybe he had to Google what actually counted as a light meal - he'd never had to think about this before! Sue him! - but he already knew how to make a carbonara so once he saw that it probably counted, he quickly got to work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time moved faster than it had all day and before Dean could even register that time had passed he heard a car in the drive the front door opening along with the now familiar sound of Castiel's footsteps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sub?" Castiel sounded unsure as he called out for Dean as he walked through the house, as though he half expected Dean to have chickened out by now, and the house to be empty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn't that Dean hadn't considered it multiple times, but he'd already promised himself to stick with it, so he was still there, and wasn't planning on chickening out any time soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"In the kitchen!" he yelled back, not certain whether he imagined the relieved sigh from the front of the house or not. He didn't have to wait long before Castiel walked in, a suit jacket tossed over his arm and a tired smile on his face. For one horrifying moment Dean thought he was going to cancel their scene, decide that he was too tired to Dom and they would have to wait until a later date.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Very good Sub," Castiel said, walking over to look in the pot Dean was stirring, "that's perfect. We can eat, have some time to digest and get everything set up, and get to scening."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We are still doing it?" Dean asked, unable to stand the uncertainty which his own brain had brought up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Unless you have changed your mind, then yes, we are still going ahead."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, cool," Dean grinned, doing his best to keep the nervous wobble out of his face. He stirred the food a couple more times before turning off the heat and starting to plate it up, keeping his hands as stable as he could so that he didn't accidently drop anything. "Are you ready to eat right now?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'm good to eat now," Castiel agreed, grabbing the cutlery out of the drawer and setting the table just like it had been the day before, side by side so they didn't have to look at each other too much. Castiel's presence was bringing back the feelings from that morning, the fear and excitement in equal parts which left Dean shaking in anticipation and both wishing to get started already, and wishing they would never get started.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel seemed to understand his problem, even though Dean hadn't said a thing about it to him. He kept conversation light while they ate, but kept it going so that Dean wasn't forced to be alone with his thoughts, so that he wasn't trapped just going over his fears again and again. Castiel didn't touch him, but he kept his hand just next to Dean's leg. If he wanted to, Dean would be able to shift into the touch without any difficulty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It meant a lot, even if he didn't actually take the offered touch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They finished eating and cleaned up together, never more than five feet apart in a way which calmed at least half the fears which had been building up throughout the day. Castiel was there, and if the way he was acting now was anything to go by, he would never leave while Dean needed him. He was a good person, and good people made good Doms, and Dean had known he was safe the entire day, but this was backing it up, reminding Dean that it was true, wrapping him in soft blankets of safety.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Go and get washed up," Castiel said as he finished drying the last dish. It wasn't a complete order, not yet, but Dean didn't even think about disagreeing. Their scene was going to start in half an hour, so Dean would get cleaned up while Castiel set up however he wanted to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hopefully the warm water would relax him, prepare him, rather than just make things worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll see you soon Sub." Castiel's voice echoed through the hall as Dean left the room, the promise in it as clear as day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were really doing this. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello! Me again!!<br/>Next chapter things are going to get *started* so yeah, see you Wednesday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Seriously guys!! Y'all really tested my self control! I really wanted to post it early for you all, but luckily (for me, less lucky for you) my self control won. But!! Luckily for y'all it is Wednesday!! So the wait is over!! It is scene time!!</p>
<p>I've written a few things into my end notes, which I would appreciate if you could read and react to, but that's a thing for later!! For now!! Enjoy the chapter!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean paced anxiously outside the bathroom, wringing his hands as he peered round the corners without moving too far from the bathroom door. He didn't know what he was supposed to be doing. It wasn't six yet, so maybe he should just act like nothing was going on and just head back to the kitchen, but then again something was happening, and something in his chest didn't feel comfortable walking back to the kitchen as though everything wasn't about to change. He didn't even know if he was supposed to be getting dressed or not. He only had one set of clothes, and it was clear that Dean would probably take them off when they started sceneing, but what about until then, was he meant to put them on now?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His thoughts kept on going round and round in circles, telling him to go, to stay where he was, to go and find Castiel, to wait for Castiel to find him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And yet he never got any closer to an actual answer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was exhausting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sub?" Castiel's voice came from the kitchen, echoing through the house.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hated the jump in his chest at the sound of his Do- at the sound of Castiel's voice, calling out for him. He had told Castiel not to get attached, had made sure he wouldn't before he even thought about agreeing. But now he was starting to have the horrible realization that it might not be Castiel he needed to worry about. Maybe it was the Sub in him, maybe it was something else, but he knew he had to be careful. He wasn't planning on staying here, John would be back soon and then they would move on like they always did, and yet Dean wished - for the first time in a long time - that he could stay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sub?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking those dangerous thoughts out of his head, Dean followed the sound of Castiel's voice, not bothering to put his clothes back on and leave the Dom waiting any longer. He walked into the kitchen slowly, noticing the look of confusion on Castiel's face, though it didn't seem directed towards the fact Dean wasn't wearing any clothes. Clearly he'd been expecting Dean to get clean and then return to the kitchen, and was confused about where Dean had been for so long, the nudity didn't seem to bother him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ahh, there you are," Castiel smiled, blatantly looking Dean up and down - though it was more in an inspecting way than in a hot way, and seriously how was Dean even managing to figure this out from Castiel's blank face? It was like something inside of him was perfectly attuned to Castiel, and that was just weird - not even bringing up how long Dean had left him waiting, even after he started calling for him. "Are you all ready?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir," Dean answered easily, his brain barely registering the switch which had been flipped, though Castiel did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good boy. Have you had a look around while I was out on one of these past few days?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean dropped his eyes, certain he was about to be told off for snooping. "Yes, Sir, I have," he confessed miserably.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's okay, you're not in trouble," Castiel assured him quickly, "I would be more worried if you hadn't by this point." He stopped talking for a moment, taking in a deep breath and straightening his back, minute changes in his body which seemed to physically change his entire demeanour from where Dean was standing. "You know where my bedroom is?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Perfect. Please go into the room just across the hall to my room," Castiel's icy blue eyes fixed onto Dean's, even ducked as they were. Castiel held eye contact while he said his next words, like he had decided that they were the kind of words - the kind of order - which had to be said eye to eye. "Kneel in the center of the room, facing the bed."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean didn't move for a moment, his mind frantically trying to catch up to where they were, but a sharp, "go," sent him walking quickly out the room and towards the door Castiel had ordered him to go to. Dean had just enough self respect not to scramble out the room, but it was only just. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn't one of those situations where Dean wondered where this commanding person had come from, or questioned where the sweet man from before was, he could still clearly see it was Cas. He hadn't changed, he was just telling Dean to do stuff now, and Dean clung to that. Dean trusted Castiel, and proper Dom mode or not, this was Castiel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He found the room with ease, slipping inside and freezing as he looked around the room which had been locked while he was looking around the day before. It had a large bed at the other side of the room, a locked wardrobe - and Dean could just imagine what was filling that - and an armchair, as well as a fluffy rug covering about half of the floor and a lot of comfortable looking cushions dotted around. There wasn't any specialist furniture, apparently Castiel liked going to clubs for that kind of thing, so the room was not overful or clustered, and the large windows kept it light and airy, even with the meshy curtains which Dean assumed were there to stop anyone from looking in - thank goodness, he would have felt awkward being in here with his junk hanging out otherwise - even if they did face Castiel's back garden. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a nice room all things considered, nothing like the dark basement dungeons Dean had imagined and John had alluded to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The way Castiel wanted Dean to kneel, in the center of the room, facing the bed, would leave his back to the door. He would be vulnerable to anyone walking in, no way of seeing what was going on. Dean had the feeling that was on purpose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The floor was hard and wooden and Dean wasn't really sure if he should be kneeling on it. It would hurt his knees… but then again… maybe that was the point, just like the kneeling facing away from the door. It would put him on the backfoot, leave him a step behind Castiel, and maybe Dean didn't actually know what Dom's were like, but this did line up with what John had always said… so maybe that was one thing that worked out. The one thing John was right about.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He kneeled carefully, making sure not to drop straight down seeing as he just knew he would hurt himself if he did that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean wasn't comfortable, the wooden floor was hard and dug into his knees, and he didn't like the fact he couldn't see the door, but he relaxed into his position, and something calming settled into his chest. It felt right, kneeling there, waiting for Castiel. He didn't love it, but he didn't hate it, and he was already wondering why he had never done this before Cas convinced him to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time seemed warped as he knelt there, a thousand years passing in just a couple of blinks while he waited for his Dom to come looking for him. He should be annoyed, he always hated being left waiting, but this was different. He didn't mind waiting for Castiel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door behind him clicked open, slow, measured steps echoing from behind him as Castiel walked into the room. It took everything inside of Dean, every part of him that was even a tiny but Sub, to stop himself from peering around. He'd been told to face the bed, and he would do his best to stick to that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good Boy," Castiel smiled, walking around the front of Dean, so that he could see the Dom's shiny dress shoes and very little else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Have you decided on a safeword yet?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir," Dean replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly. "It's Impala, Sir."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Impala," Castiel repeated, like he was trying to commit it to his memory. "That works perfectly. Good boy."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean didn't even think about it. His eyes slipped upwards, making eye contact with the brilliant blue above him. He didn't know what his face must have looked like, but he could feel the most vulnerable, the most submissive, parts of his psych drifting upwards, and he was sure it must have shown on his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Eyes on the floor," Castiel told him, though there was a fondness in his voice, "don't look around unless I tell you too."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir," Dean whispered, his eyes resting back onto the floor, curling his shoulders inwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Very good. Now-" Castiel cut off suddenly, "please stand up sweet boy." Dean stood up awkwardly, his knees creaking as he stretched them out. "I'm going to make a rule now. Okay. When I make a rule I expect you to recite it back to me and stick to it whenever we scene. Okay?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can do that," Dean replied, his mind reeling. This was supposed to be a one time thing, just to keep him stable until his dad came back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn't feel like that anymore.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even ignoring how attached Dean was getting, there was still the safeword - Dean had never even thought about choosing a safeword before - and just now there were the rules. It was all feeling… safe. Permanent. No longer just a short time thing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It scared him just as much as it relaxed him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Perfect. From now on, you are not to kneel on any hard floors without a cushion." Castiel's tone left no room for argument, nowhere for Dean to argue, even if he wanted to. "Repeat it back to me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"From now on I have to kneel on cushions when on a hard floor," Dean replied, just as he'd been told to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Very good. Now, grab a cushion, and kneel back down."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean didn't hesitate, all but floating around the room as he grabbed the first cushion he liked the look of, and returned to his place by Castiel's feet. The hand through his hair was enough to tell him that Castiel was pleased with him, and also resulted in him all but melting into the cushion he was kneeling on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, are you ready to begin?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nodded, barely breathing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Words please."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir, I'm ready."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Perfect." Castiel walked back out of his eyes line, ending up behind him, the sound of a cupboard opening and closing the only sound in the now almost silent room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took a while before Castiel was back, the sound of shifting and clanking coming from behind Dean the only thing that changed while he waited. The anticipation kept on rising, and it really said a lot about Dean's strength of will - or maybe just proof that he really was as submissive as he always tried to pretend he wasn't - that he didn't look round, just allowed the sounds to wash over him while he waited. He wasn't paying any attention to where Castiel was, but even without trying he knew exactly where the Dom was standing, and almost what he was doing as well. Dean could feel that he was picking things up from the cupboard, picking between two items, though he didn't know what the items were.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay then," Cas walked closer, standing just behind Dean now, passing something from one hand to the other in a way that felt absentminded from what Dean could tell. "I know you said you haven't done any scenes before, but have you done anything before?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What kind of thing?" Dean asked, adding on a quick, "Sir," as an afterthought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How did you stay stable before if you didn't scene? What did your dad do?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He gave me orders," Dean shrugged, wracking his brain to see if he could remember anything else that had happened. He couldn't remember John doing anything like that… not on purpose anyway… except… "I guess… impact play…?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Impact play?" Castiel repeated questioningly, before his eyes widened with realization. "Sub, are you telling me that he beat you?" There was anger in his voice, fury making his tone, and Dean by extension, vibrate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ummm," Dean replied uselessly, not sure what to do in the face of his - no. The - Dom's anger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stumbled a couple of steps backwards, his control seeming to slip for a moment with his shock. Dean guessed that meant this was pretty bad. He'd always assumed it was just one of those things - for him it always had been - but for Castiel it seemed to be the worst thing he'd ever heard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sir?" he asked uncertainly, twisting around to look at the Dom, to check he was okay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Eyes back to the front," Castiel replied quickly, shaking his head as he stood back up to his full height, "we will talk about that later," it was a clear command, not a suggestion and Dean wished he could find it in himself to care a bit more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room was quiet for a bit longer, Dean knelt on the pillow with his eyes on the floor in front of him, and he could feel Castiel breathing deeply, trying to recenter himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay Sub, up on the bed please."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stood smoothly, walking over to the bed and moving to sit on the edge of it, before thinking better and shifting to kneel in the middle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good boy." Castiel's voice was back to its normal softness, no hint of the anger which had underlaid his tone just moments before. Dean had no idea how he managed to control his tone and emotions so well, not even Sam could do that and he was a pretty good Dom as far as Dean was aware. Then again, he'd never figured out what Dean was… even when he'd been so unbalanced that even unmarked had been able to feel it. What did that mean?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bracelets off, if you feel comfortable doing so." Castiel's voice was right next to him now, his footsteps apparently quiet enough for Dean not to hear them over his rolling thoughts. "Eyes open please." Dean threw his eyes open. He had no idea when he had closed them. What was it about Castiel that made Dean like this? Made him relax into his surroundings and relax into the orders and forget everything John had ever taught him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is there something wrong, sweet boy?" Dean didn't know if Castiel had picked up on something being wrong, or just assumed from his lack of movement, but it was enough to remind him of what he was doing, and enough for him to slowly slip his bracelets off, one at a time, until his wrist was bare. He felt naked - even more so than when he had first stripped off - and exposed, but then Castiel's hand was settling in the small of his back and his thumb was stroking the small horizontal mark on Dean's wrist, all the unsettled feelings vanished, leaving him alone in space with his Sir, waiting for his next instruction and nothing else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There we go," Castiel hummed, "now, normally I prefer to introduce new stuff when Subs are a bit more balanced, but from the sound of it anything I do will be new, and you're a bit too unbalanced for anything less than a full scene, so I guess we are jumping straight into the deep end." Dean heard Castiel's words, and understood what he was saying at a soul deep level, but he wasn't exactly listening. It felt like he was floating above it all, and the only thing tethering him to the ground was Castiel's touch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you okay with me tying you up, Sub?" Dean nodded, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he kneeled on what felt like a cloud. "Words please."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir, I'm okay with that," Dean replied, his words a little bit slurred, but clear enough for it to be obvious what he was saying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, arms up please, I need to get to your chest." Dean put his arms up, feeling Castiel's cool hands position soft rope against his bare chest, slowly moving their way down as they knotted and weaved the rope. Dean could have probably figured out what he was doing if he'd concentrated hard enough, but he didn't want to, he was quite happy just letting the Dom do whatever he wanted. Castiel moved Dean's limbs like he was some kind of doll, shifting him when needed for his ropes, and never completely breaking contact with him. It made Dean float even higher, his inner Sub feeling like nothing more than a pile of goo and he relaxed into the ropes which held his body.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's it, there we go, Sweet Boy," Castiel whispered right next to his ear, reaching a hand between his legs to slip the rope thorough. Dean wasn't even bothered by how close Castiel was to his junk, knowing that he could trust the Dom with all parts of him without fear of being hurt. He knew that if he was in his normal headspace he'd be panicking. How could he trust Dom this much? But right now, with his submissive side being properly looked after for the first time ever, all he could think was how happy he was that Castiel had found him at the bar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," Dean whispered, though by the way his lips tingled he doubted it was very audible, his brain mouth connection not working very well with how gooey everything inside of him was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And it was all thanks to Castiel.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay so here is the deal. Two things.<br/>1) This is all the scene I have written. Next chapter jumps straight into aftercare. But!! I love you guys, and I want you to enjoy this story!! So if you want more scene - I could figure something out - just tell me and I'll write it. Next chapter would probably be a little bit late to give me time to write, but you could get the rest of the scene. (though if you are going to request this then ideas would be appreciated but not necessary) If no one gives an opinion then I'll just carry on as planned.</p>
<p>2) This is the second last chapter of this story, and then I also have a sequel. But. I realized while posting this that even my sequel leaves a lot left unsaid... so I'm writing another sequel. A sequel of the sequel if you will. And I've got a plan. I haven't written it yet, so it might be a moment before that happens, but it is going to. And I thought, you know who I should ask what problems they want sorting! The readers! So please! Comment!! Tell me what you want sorting before this verse is put to bed! Scene ideas, plot points, characters you want to see turn up, trauma that needs addressing, whatever! If there is something you want to see in this verse, tell me! And I will write it!!</p>
<p>Anyway!! That's all I have to say!! If you read all of that, congrats I'm proud. Thanks for being here!! And I'll see you at the next update!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You guys wanted more scene!! So here we go!! Have a bonus chapter!! It's... a lot wordier than I was expecting... as in there is a lot of thinking, and I've got to warn you... If you wanted smut... there isn't any. I was going to, but it didn't feel right! IDK, it just didn't happen. We just got a lot of feelings and softness instead for some reason.<br/>The next (and final) chapter will be posted on Sunday as normal, because I managed to write this fairly quickly. Turns out there is no writing motivation quite like awesome comments and a 'verse you love!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean floated in the ropes, held secure in what was truly a stranger's embrace, no matter how much he felt he already knew Castiel. How long had it been? His hazy brain could barely remember his own name, nevermind the passage of time, but he was fairly sure it had only been a couple of days, two maybe, and yet here he was, letting Castiel past walls he'd built back when he was ten years old and that mark had first shown up on his wrist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He'd never really made friends, never stayed in one place to let anyone close. Never trusted anyone enough to let them peek past the walls of the impenetrable fortress he had built around the soft vulnerable parts of himself. But Castiel? There was something about him. He has seen through Dean's walls like they were made of glass and coaxed him out until… well. Until he was here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tied up in rope, completely at his Dom's mercy, and completely happy being there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're enjoying this aren't you," Castiel chuckled, using a single finger to stroke along Dean's hardness, though he didn't linger. This scene wasn't about getting off. It was about balancing Dean. It was about control, or in Dean's case, a lack of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel took his sweet time. Petting across Dean's skin, stroking between the ropes, sometimes tugging him in one direction of the other using the intricate ties as handholds. Dean couldn't have moved to stop him, even if he'd wanted to, his arms tied loosely enough not to hurt, but tight enough to give him no wriggle room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was completely at Castiel's mercy. But unlike what John had always implied, the mercy was there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were no chains or whips or pain. Just gentle touches and simple control. And Dean was revelling in it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Come on, Sweet Boy, out of your head," Castiel hummed, tugging on his hair hard enough to sting, though the sensation didn't get anywhere close to pain. "What're you supposed to be concentrating on right now?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean remembered this one from the day before. "You," he slurred, his eyelids fluttering helplessly as he wriggled in the ropes, just to feel their unrelenting hold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's right," Castiel muttered, his fingers dragging up Dean's back and settling on his shoulder. "Relax into the ropes for me, relax into my hold." Dean thought he'd already been relaxed, but Castiel went over every muscle in his body, pressing down until Dean relaxed it sufficiently, patiently focusing on every one until the only thing holding Dean in one piece was the rope's hold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head was bowed, his eyes closed as his body turned weightless, until he fully drifted away until he was just a mind in the sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So good," Castiel whispered right into Dean's ear, "so good for me Sub."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel's hands were back. They were everywhere at once, stroking and patting and teasing and pinching as he moved across Dean skin, drowning the Sub in sensation after sensation, so much that he had no option but to submit to it, to let it all go and not even bother trying to catalogue the touches or keep up. Castiel seemed to know exactly what he needed, and was doing exactly that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Beautiful, Sweet Boy, you're stunning."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The touches started fading into the background, so constant his overwhelmed brain started filtering them out, when suddenly Castiel shifted and the warm touch was replaced by freezing cold. Dean tried to shift away, as the freezing touch moved in a figure of eight over his back, but the ropes wouldn't let him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel had an ice cube, and was running it across his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Relax," Castiel chucked, his free hand - the one without the ice cube - reaching up to card though Dean's hair soothingly. "Trust me. Take the sensations I offer you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean hummed, the only noise he could bring himself to make, focusing for a moment to relax back down. He wasn't sure he liked this. Though… that wasn't true. He liked this. He loved the feeling of letting go. He loved trusting Castiel and just letting himself float. What he didn't like was the almost seasick feeling he was getting, from being unable to sustain that float. Maybe it was John's fault, maybe Dean was just a failure, but every time he started floating he would be back down to earth a few moments later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, it's okay," Castiel told him, gently pressing his thumb against the horizontal mark on Dean’s wrist soothingly, and Dean could swear the Dom was a mind-reader, "you're doing great. Doing amazing for me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ice was all gone now, Castiel just rubbing the last of the now warming water into his skin, and Castiel returned to just petting along his sides, touching him carefully until Dean was floating again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lie back for me, Sweet Boy," Castiel said, and although his voice was soft Dean knew it was an order, the sub part of his brain instantly picking up on Castiel’s tone. The Dom's hand cradled the back of his head, and it was only when Dean was about to move when he realized what this was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn't move within the ropes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His arms couldn't catch him if he fell, and even though the bed was soft underneath him, and the drop wasn't far at all, he was going to have to trust Castiel to control his descent. His trust for the Dom was going to have to have to be physical.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean started slowly. Leaning back until he weight was held by Castiel, the Dom starting to guide Dean's head down as though he weighed nothing more than a handful of feathers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Very good, Sub. Such a good boy for me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel wouldn't let Dean fall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn't notice when the first tear slid down his face, but his cheeks were soon wet, his eyes stung, and his breathing rattled a bit in his chest. He could trust Castiel. Castiel wasn't like John, who had taken Dean's trust and twisted it to make him dependent. Wasn't like Sam, who had missed all of Dean's struggles despite the fact they'd practically grown up in each other's pockets. Castiel saw Dean's troubles, and used his trust to help him past them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Dean realized that he didn't want to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This could become something beautiful if he just stayed long enough to let it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sub," Castiel barked, slapping Dean on his thigh. It was sharp enough for him to feel it, for the sting to drag him out of his thoughts. But… it was different to anything he'd ever had done to him before. The feeling - which had barely been pain in the first place - faded quickly and within moments it was like it had never been there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There you go. I can see that next time I'm going to have to make sure to keep your attention. You do get stuck in your head a lot." It was a joke. A tease. Castiel didn't really mean anything from it, that's what Dean told himself. But it still… Castiel was talking about a future. About them having a next time. A next scene.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir," Dean managed to slur out, lifting his eyes until he made eye contact with Castiel. He didn't know what he looked like, but Castiel smiled at him, wiping the still falling tears from his face gently and pressing a chaste kiss to his hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll look after you," Cas promised. His words meant nothing. But his actions, they meant everything. And his actions had proven that he was telling the truth.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed this little bonus whatever this is!!<br/>Comments and kudos make my day!!!<br/>I'll see you Sunday!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is it people.<br/>It's The Final Chapter!! (of this work)<br/>And wow. I never expected so many people to enjoy this. You guys have made writing this fic a pleasure! So thank you. Every single one of y'all are amazing!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean blinked sleepily as Castiel rolled his shoulders out. He had no idea how long he'd been tied up in Castiel's rope for, how long he'd been there, being looked after by his Dom in the basest way, but every joint ached in the most amazing way, and he felt like he could sleep for a week, he was so relaxed and sleepy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could tell he'd be remembering this night for weeks. Remembering the peace he'd felt, knowing that decisions weren't his to make. He couldn't have even moved his limbs unless Castiel allowed him to. He had been completely under Castiel's control.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Drink this please," Castiel held a glass of what smelt like orange juice to his lips, and just held it there while Dean drank obediently. Castiel was still whispering praise to him as he pulled Dean down to cuddle together in the bed, Castiel spooning Dean from behind as he stroked his hair and Dean slowly came back to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That was- wow," Dean whispered as soon as he had enough control to actually form words. He felt better than he had for years, and although he was still a bit unsettled by how easy it now was to trust Cas, his Sub side was still close enough to the surface for him not to care all that much. That was a morning problem, the only thing he had to think about right now was how relaxed he felt, and how it was all Castiel's doing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I agree," Castiel whispered back, sounding as relaxed as Dean felt, his hand not even pausing on its journey through Dean's hair, pulling deliciously every time he reached a knot to untangle. "Do you feel better now?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean hummed happily, his head lolling backwards until it was pressed against Castiel's throat. "Tonnes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad to hear it. Are you comfortable to sleep here, or would you rather I get you back to the guest room?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's eyes were slipping shut even as he answered, "I want to stay here," and just a few moments later he was asleep, Castiel's steady warmth and gentle petting sending him off quicker than he'd ever gone before.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean woke up the next morning feeling just as amazing as he had the night before. For all of ten seconds that was. And then he registered the fact that the warmth behind him was a living breathing human, who happened to be a Dom, who only last night had tuesseled Dean up in rope like a defenseless chicken, and Dean had let him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What would John say if - when - he found out? Dean barely had to wonder. Because he knew. John would tell him that he was pathetic, and disgusting, and a disgrace to their family. He would tell him that Mary would be disappointed, and Sam would be horrified if he ever found out. John would take everything good about that night - which even right now with Dean panicking like he was, he could think of at least ten good things, even though he was disgusted with himself - and stomp it into the dirt, twist it into yet another lesson on why everything that made Dean himself was bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jumped out of bed like he'd been burned, running out the room without even pausing to put some clothes on. He just needed to get out, get away from Castiel. He ended up pacing back and forth in front of the stairs, rubbing his wrist and wishing he'd had enough thought to grab his bracelets before running away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt all tied up, like his stomach was in knots and despite the fact that part of his psyche was nice and balanced from their scene last night, another part was in turmoil for the same reason. It was making him feel a bit seasick, and he just wanted it to stop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, hey it's okay," came a sleepy rumble from just behind him, surprisingly gentle hands running up and down his arms. "What's going through your head? Can you tell me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean collapsed backwards into Castiel's hold, his eyes slipping closed. He needed Castiel to catch him, to untangle everything and stop everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm disgusting," Dean managed to force out as his entire body started shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why are you disgusting?" Castiel asked, starting to slowly walk backwards, back towards the room they had woken up in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I- I gave in. I let you tie me up, I- I- I'm disgusting, I let everyone down. I ruined everything." Dean couldn't properly explain it, couldn't explain the disgust in his gut at what he'd done, what he'd allowed Cas to do. He'd done what he'd spent his entire life being told was wrong, and he felt sick over it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you think all Subs are disgusting?" Cas asked, seemingly out of nowhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, of course not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So then why are you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's different," Dean said with a hard shake of his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It just is!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. No it isn't. Why do you have different standards for other people and yourself? You are a Sub just like every other Sub in the world, and you deserve to be looked after just as they deserve to be." Castiel finally got them back into the room, pulling them onto the bed and back under the covers then shifting so that he was plastered against Dean's back, squeezing him as tightly as he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean held himself rigidly, not wanting to give up and relax into the hold that he was so sure must be wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What would make you feel better?" Castiel asked from just next to Dean's ear, one of his hands starting to rub up and down his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My bracelets." He felt embarrassed admitting it. Embarrassed that now the Dom would know that even after everything he just wanted to hide his sub side again, which was just stupid seeing as just looking at the mark on his arm was making him feel sick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's okay," Castiel muttered, sitting up and reaching behind him, before handing Dean his little pile of bracelets. It took a moment or two for Dean to put them all on, but he could feel the tension slowly drain out of him with each one, and hated the fact that Castiel was going to see how pathetically dependent he was on a pile of string and leather. "Hey, look at me please Sub."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean looked up, blinking slowly. "Dean."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's my name," Dean trusted Castiel, had trusted him boundlessly last night, and even now could still feel his trust for the Dom just below the surface. Castiel had proved himself as a person, and as a Dom, and sure Dean could argue with himself forever, claiming that some part of Castiel still wasn't trustworthy, but it just wasn't true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean," Castiel repeated again, his tone soft as he seemed to try Dean's name out. "It suits you," he grinned, squeezing Dean's biceps reassuringly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay then Dean, here is what we are going to do. I'm going to stop this drop you seem to have tumbled into, and then we are going to go downstairs, get some breakfast, and talk about everything. Okay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked up at Castiel in confusion. "You think I've dropped?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Definitely. It makes sense, that was your first scene after all, and I'm sure there is a reason you've been avoiding it all this time. It's not the end of the world or anything, and you'll be right as rain before too long, so long as you let me help."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean chewed his lip for a long moment, thinking Castiel's words over, before he relaxed into his arms. "Yeah, okay," he said, dropping his eyes to look downwards - which was a bit difficult seeing as he was lying down - and allowing Castiel to do whatever he needed to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ate breakfast half an hour later, though it felt like years had passed to Dean. He was back on even footing, feeling like a completely different man then the one we who had woken up so panicked - who knew how magical hugs and praise could be - and although his dad's words still hovered in the back of his head, they were a lot easier to ignore when Castiel's words overlayed them, reassuring him that everything was okay. His bracelets still covered his wrist, they were his armour after all, but he didn't feel disgusted by the sight of them, by the reminder of the secret they hid, which definitely felt like a win to Dean.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We need to talk," Castiel announced, walking behind Dean and placing a plate of pancakes in front of him, as well as at the place next to him where Castiel was clearly planning on sitting. He walked back to the cupboards, his movements easy in the way that was only possible when someone was completely at ease in their surroundings, and grabbed a couple of bottles of syrup which he placed on the table. Dean almost felt jealous of Castiel, of the space which he had spent so long in that he was that comfortable. Dean could only imagine staying in one place for long enough for that to happen, he'd certainly never done it before. "And I get the feeling that now might be the best time to do it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not wrong there," Dean sighed, picking up the maple syrup from in front of him and drowning his pancakes. He didn't look at Castiel, though he could feel his piercing eyes on the side of his head, just picked up his fork and waited for Castiel to start talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't even know where to start," without even looking Dean can tell that Castiel was rubbing the bridge of his nose, probably wishing that he'd never found Dean at that bar. "Where is your dad right now?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I- I don't know," Dean sighed, "he didn't tell me where he was going."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He left you," Castiel growled, and when Dean risked a glance over at him, his eyes  were shining with righteous anger. "What's his presentation?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dom."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He's a Dom!" Castiel all but yelled, stabbing his fork into his stack of pancakes, and glaring down at it, breathing heavily as though he very much wished that it wasn't pancakes his fork was in.  "And yet he let you- he-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He isn't the biggest fan of Subs," Dean shrugged, "or me in general actually."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And the beatings?" Castiel's voice was tired, and he clearly didn't really want to know the truth, even though he needed to know it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean winced, "he's not a nice drunk," he offered weakly, "and you and I both know it wouldn't count as abuse, not if he claimed he was doing it to keep me balanced."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel scowled, but he didn't even try to argue the point. They both knew it was true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It is what it is, I guess." Dean didn't know what else to say. He didn't want Castiel to be angry, even if he knew the anger wasn't actually aimed at him, but if their situations were reversed, Dean knew he would be angry too, so it would be hypocritical of him to try and pretend he didn't know Castiel was completely in the right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let me get this straight," Castiel said with a frown, "your dad hates you, beats you, leaves without saying where he is going, and lets you hover that close to the edge of falling without doing anything. Why are you still sticking with him?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He's family, and the only Dom I can trust. He might keep me on the edge, but at least it's the right side of the edge."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shoved a bite of the pancakes into his mouth. They were delicious, fluffy and sweet and amazing, and in any other situation he would probably be scothing them down. Right now though, he was taking his time. He needed the excuse of a full mouth more than he needed to eat all of those pancakes at that very moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can trust me," Castiel said quietly, the words little more than a whisper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you- are you asking me to stay Castiel?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, no, I don't know," Castiel sighed. I want you safe. And I want you stable, and I get the feeling that finding a place to stay for good would help you immensely. And, you know, if you stay in this area then I can help."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"As friends or as-" Dean left the end of his sentence hanging in the air, knowing that Castiel would figure out what he was asking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"As friends," Castiel assured quickly, "You're not looking for anything more, and neither am I. You just seem like too good a person to be stuck alone, and from yesterday I can tell that we scene well together."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean had to agree with that. He might not have ever scened before, but he had read enough books and watched enough movies to know that it was a good scene. Extremely good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, maybe he was terrified of anything more, but he knew he could trust the Dom, and he had to admit, Illinois might have never been in his future plans, but it wasn't the worst place to end up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you think I'd be able to fit in around here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I think so," Castiel smiled, in a soft way that left a warm feeling fluttering in Dean's chest. "I guess there is only one way to find out."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I guess there is," Dean smiled back. He could feel excitement bubbling up in his chest at just the thought of it all. The thought of having a home, a stable place to live, friends who he could stay with. Maybe a chance to get even closer to Castiel, he would have to see where that one went. For the first time in a long time, he could imagine a future for himself. A future as more than he had ever been before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he couldn't wait for it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that's a wrap!!<br/>❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤<br/>The next instalment to this 'verse will probably be out sometime in the next two weeks or so, and I have already started writing the one after that, though it'll probably be a little while until it's done.<br/>Kudos and comments make me smile, and I hope to see y'all again soon!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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